Meant To Be
by DinoDina
Summary: Since joining Torchwood and getting involved with Jack, Ianto though that he'd never find his soulmate, but he was happy where he was and not all that worried about it. Then Jack sees his Mark. Janto Soulmate!AU. Oneshot.


Ianto's parents weren't soulmates.

He knew that with just as much certainty as he knew that he had a soulmate.

His father didn't have a Mark—and Ianto couldn't even imagine him having one—and his mother… well, he didn't know if she had one, not for sure, but he'd seen her sadly looking at her left wrist, touching it, and sighing.

His parents didn't talk about soulmates, anyway, so Ianto didn't even know anything about them until he'd started school, and the concept had been briefly mentioned. Then, when he'd come home with questions about the figure on his wrist, Rhiannon had showed him hers.

His Mark was faint, just a shade lighter than the surrounding skin, and he was so pale, he could hardly see it.

Still, with the new concept of soulmates etched into his brain, Ianto ran a finger over his Mark whenever he was struggling to fall asleep—which was more and more often as he got older—trying to imagine his soulmate and thinking of them as he eventually drifted off.

He'd stopped focusing on it when he moved to London for uni, seeing as how his peers weren't focused on their own Marks or the absence of them. He'd done what they had: studied, partied, struggled to stay afloat without a job and the time to get one. He didn't get questions about his Mark, either, as it was so faint, glad that it wasn't as prominent as the bright green Marks of Rhiannon and her husband.

Then he'd met Lisa, and he'd looked at his Mark, had etched it into his memory so he'd be able to know every detail at a moment's notice. She didn't have a Mark, she told him after three months of dating, and had never really bothered about it.

Ianto had decided to think the same.

For the first time in a long time, Ianto looked down at his Mark and traced the small design.

 _He was late coming into the Hub, at least by his own standards. As it was, he came in at the same time that Gwen did, meeting her at the tourist office and—truthfully—explaining his tardiness as a faulty alarm clock._

 _He'd overslept, and so had Jack, but Jack was already in his office, and Ianto wasn't even in his suit. He chose to make coffee before changing and left Gwen at her desk. It was there that Jack met him, drawing him in for a hug—he was so much more tactile since they'd lost Tosh and Owen, and Ianto's own embarrassment of public displays of affection seemed stupid now—even if they'd seen each other already._

 _Ianto smiled as the coffee had brewed, leaning in to Jack's touch and mumbling a "Hello."_

 _Jack echoed the sentiment with a kiss and a "Good morning."_

 _"It_ was _a good morning," Ianto agreed. "Thank you."_

 _"Anytime." Jack laughed, getting his mug from the cupboard and placing it next to the coffee machine._

 _They stood there as the drink brewed, taking the small break before they would have to go back out into the world. The coffee started pouring out and Jack kissed him; Ianto hugged him back and the kiss increased in passion and intensity. The coffee machine beeped and Ianto extracted himself from the embrace, changing the mug from Jack's to Gwen's._

 _Jack's arms were still around him as he went about the business, and he leaned back into the touch. "You should probably go back, Jack."_

 _"Back where?"_

 _"Work." He chuckled. "You know, that thing you're here to do and aren't doing."_

 _"This is more important." Jack laughed, too. "But fine… if you want to be so cruel."_

 _He took his mug and let go of Ianto, now holding only his hand. He shifted his grip and lifted Ianto's hand to his lips, planting a small kiss on his wrist—he wanted to be romantic and even if it was a bit old-fashioned and over-the-top, Ianto wasn't complaining, because the gestures were always so heartwarming—before looking down at the skin he'd just touched._

 _Ianto watched as he blanched, as he let go of his mug—he only just had the time to dive for it because it was Jack's favorite—and looked at Ianto with something akin to horror._

 _Then the Rift Alarm rang, and Ianto—his hand burning and covered in hot coffee—hadn't had time to question him._

 _Jack went out with Gwen, leaving Ianto behind to coordinate. The ache in his hand came and went, but Jack's cold voice and almost dismissive attitude over comms hurt so much more._

Jack had seen his Mark.

Ianto knew that with just as much certainty as he knew that it had scared him.

He didn't know why—surely such a simple thing as soulmates hadn't survived evolution by the 51st century—but Jack had gone into his office when he and Gwen had come back, and he hadn't come out for the duration of the day. Ianto himself didn't come in, save for bringing Jack his midday coffee, but Jack's reaction had been so dismissive, he hadn't bothered coming back in.

Something about the pale mark on Ianto's wrist had unsettled Jack, and despite the confusion, Ianto was more confused about how Jack hadn't seen it before. They didn't have any physical barriers with each other, after all, and it certainly wasn't the first time Jack had kissed his wrist. Then again, it wasn't like he paid any attention to Jack's wrists, either, since they pales in comparison to the rest of him, so it wasn't _that_ odd.

Ianto sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. It was pretty pointless, what he was doing… just sitting there, thinking. But what else was he to do?

It wasn't like he could broach the subject with Jack, and he couldn't just ignore it. He could, of course, but it would be right and it would annoy him and distract him at the worst of times.

Frustrated, he tugged his sleeve over his Mark and walked to the kitchen, taking a takeout menu off the refrigerator and dialing the number of the pizza place. He ordered a delivery, not wanting to leave his flat that evening—and, if he was being honest, at any other time, but he couldn't allow himself to mope over something that was too odd for him to figure out himself—and made his way back to the couch.

 _Soon after she and Jack returned from the Rift alert, Gwen accosted Ianto as he was making more coffee. She nodded towards Jack's office, seeing that he'd retreated there as soon as he entered the Hub. "What's with him?"_

 _"What do you mean?" Ianto did his best to look bland and confused._

 _"You know what I mean." She nudged his shoulder. "Why's he so… grumpy? What happened?"_

 _"Nothing happened." He shrugged._

 _"You're lying." She took a defensive stance. "He was fine this morning._

You _were fine this morning. Hell, I saw the two of you at the coffee machine; he looked so happy!"_

 _"Maybe you should ask him," Ianto said coldly, Jack's previous dismissal still hurtful._

 _"Maybe I will." She looked at him with a challenge. "Why won't_ you _?"_

 _"Because nothing's going on."_

 _She glared; she couldn't fight him on that, not when he was being so stubborn. With a sigh, she relaxed and looked down. "I—oh, pet, what happened to you hand?"_

 _Ianto rolled his eyes. He hated when she called him that and hated the overbearing, if_

 _well-meaning, concern. "It's fine, just spilled coffee on it—got startled by the Alarm this morning."_

 _Wide, sympathetic eyes met his. "And Jack—"_

 _"Jack had nothing to do with it," he said firmly. "Leave it, Gwen. Nothing's going on, and even if it was, it's not like he's talking to us about it."_

 _He was bitter, sure, but Gwen didn't notice. "He needs someone to push him!"_

 _"Pick your battles." Picking up a file, Ianto began making his way to his desk. He stopped and turned back. "Look, I'm not saying that everything's good. It's not, and it rarely is. But it's nothing that matters."_

It mattered, of course. But in the bigger picture, it mattered just as much as the burn on his hand did: it stung, but it would pass, and eventually be replaced with something else.

Ianto wondered if Gwen had ended up talking to Jack. He wondered if Jack had talked to her if she had. She was better-adjusted than they were, at least in her personal life. At times, Ianto felt as if his own personal life was at odds with his professional one—did he have a professional life? Or was his personal and professional life the same thing?—and knew that Gwen didn't have the same problem.

She had Rhys, and he was her soulmate—their Marks were darker than their skin, and stuck out like sore thumbs if one wasn't oblivious, but they were happy—and they were happily married.

What did he have? A Mark and a part-time lover, part-time boss that had freaked out at the sight of it.

He also had a doorbell, and that doorbell had just rung. His pizza had arrived, albeit fifteen minutes early.

Ianto heaved himself off the couch and made his way to the door, grabbing his wallet on the way. He wasn't going to devote any more of his time to moping; he was going to sit there, turn the telly on to some mindless drivel, and stuff himself with food.

Money already out, Ianto reached the door, opening it and reaching out his hand—

"Ianto?"

He looked up. "Jack?"

"Uh… yeah." He looked at the money. "Expecting someone?"

"Dinner."

"Sorry for interrupting… uh, can I come in?" Jack gave him a crooked smile. "Feel a bit odd at the door."

"Sure." Ianto shrugged, letting him in and putting the money back in his wallet.

Ianto noted that Jack looked awkward and didn't doubt what he had come to talk—or not talk—about. He didn't know if he'd hoped for the day's events to be forgotten about or to be explained. As it was, he just wanted to move forward, no matter how awkward confused and horrible he'd felt all day.

Jack took his shoes off at the door, as one usually did at Ianto's flat, and took a seat on the couch where Ianto had previously been sitting, leaving him to sit on the other end.

Ianto felt that the tension between them could be cut with a knife, but maybe that was just him. He cleared his throat. "I hope pizza's good enough for dinner. I didn't feel like cooking. Er… if you're staying, that is. Are you? Staying?"

"Yeah, pizza sounds good." Jack shifted on the couch.

Ianto surreptitiously pulled his sleeve lower over his hand. Somehow, he thought that the movement didn't escape Jack's notice. "I'll take your coat, then."

"Thanks." Jack took it off, handing it over and watching as Ianto brushed it off and went to hang it. "It's alright if I stay, then?"

"Yeah, I—"

"Even after what happened?" Jack gave a small, self-deprecating smile.

"I don't know _what_ happened."

"I'm sorry," Jack immediately started, then stopped. Ianto saw his face crumple a bit, regain composure, then soften once more. "I just… I noticed your birthmark, and I thought… I don't know… There's this thing—in the 51st century—there's this… well, people have soulmates."

Ianto chose not to mention that he knew all about soulmates, but the fact that people rarely talked about them somewhat explained Jack's ignorance—although Jack must have seen so many people's Marks, seeing so many of them in intimate settings—and attentively looked at Jack. "And?"

"It just reminded me of a Mark—a thing that soulmates have—that I saw once."

Ianto weighed his options. He cleared his throat. "It is."

"What?"

"A Mark." Ianto swallowed. "It's _my_ Mark."

 _Gwen fiddled with her wedding ring, and from his own desk, Ianto couldn't tell if she was still thinking over whatever she thought was happening between him and Jack. She looked thoughtful, though, and once part of him wanted to offer help but another part wanted to stay away from a potentially messy—and didn't he have enough of that?— and invasive situation._

 _She bit at her thumbnail and made a humming sound, then went back to whatever she was doing._

 _Ianto noted that her ring was just a bit off-center on her finger before going back to his own work._

 _After several minutes—and he_ knew _she was staring at him, damn it!—Ianto decided to go down to the Archives. He'd still be around if anything happened, but he'd be far enough from Gwen's concern and Jack's odd issues._

 _On his way down, he saw that she was once again fiddling with the ring._

It must be nice, _he thought._ Having a soulmate who one happens to be married to.  
 _  
He didn't pretend he wasn't bitter—although maybe that wasn't the best word for it—but he was happy for Gwen. She had everything he'd ever wanted: a soulmate, a family…  
_  
"Yours?" Jack started. "How can… how do..?"

"People have them. Not everyone, not… it's private." He hadn't talked aloud at length about soulmates with anyone other than Rhiannon, and Jack's wide-eyed look wasn't exactly encouraging. "People have them, and it's—it's a thing. We just live with it, and not everyone has a Mark or a soulmate or anything, but so many people aren't bothered by it or try to find theirs… I guess I should give up even the possibility of thinking about it, shouldn't I?"

"What? Why?"

"You said it matched someone you once knew." With a chuckle, Ianto shook his head. "Just my luck, isn't it? They're either long gone or not even born, considering how you've been around."

"You—"

"Although I'm not saying that I _want_ to—I've got all I—I just—I don't need—" He took a deep breath and looked straight at Jack. "I've given up on it long ago, Jack. I admit I never expected… but it doesn't matter now."

"It does."

Ianto tried to hide his disappointment at the seriousness in Jack's voice. He should have known—

"It matters," Jack said again. "I'd explain the significance of soulmates, but I assume now that you know. It matters to know who your soulmate is…"

Challenge in his eyes, Ianto harshly demanded. "And who is it, then?"

"It's me."

"Excuse me?" Ianto had strained his ears to hear, so surely Jack hadn't said…

"It's me."

"That's—"

"And I'm sorry that I didn't say that immediately, I just thought… can you imagine? All of time and space, and it's me and I'm so sorry… I can't imagine—"

"Shut up." Pressing his lips to Jack's, Ianto, for the first time in his life, had no doubts about his happiness.

And later, when they were in bed together, just about to fall asleep, he watched as Jack slowly traced the shape of his Mark-he'd seen Jack's Mark, had actually touched it, and it blended into Jack's skin just as seamlessly as Ianto's did, if not more so.

He hadn't thought he'd meet his soulmate, not since he'd been little, and with Lisa's death and his involvement with Jack, he'd given up on the idea altogether. It was nice. Ianto would be lying if he said that he didn't think with his heart—he did, and all too often that ended badly—and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want a romantic happy ending.

Now, it seemed that he'd be getting that happy ending.

He was too tired to do or say anything, at that time of the night, so smiled at Jack.

They fell asleep in each other's arms that night and Ianto knew with certainty—with the same certainty that he knew that he had found, actually found, his soulmate—that Jack would be there in the morning, and in many future mornings.


End file.
